Dance Macabre
by InkStrider
Summary: Daughter of a famous British doctor, Amu Walker is set on becoming a mechanic, but the only way to win her father's support is to charm the heart of one Ootori Kyoya.
1. Chapter 1

The rumbling sound of the airplane landing drowned out the monotone voice of Dr. Walker, my father. Not that I could enjoy this blissful moment of rare silence. His words were running through my head, imprinted on my mind.

"You need to branch out, Amu. You need connections if you are going to make in anywhere in life. Lyamu Carolyn Walker, you'll be as famous as I am one day".

Never mind that I didn't want to be a doctor. Never mind the fact that I wanted to own a small mechanic shop in a quaint town and live off the money I had made, not given. That was alien to my father, who owned more than half of the businesses in Manchester. If I didn't make something out of myself, I was expected to marry someone who has. Sometimes I wished that Matt Smith would sweep me off my feet.

The hot Japanese sun beat down on my back as we slowly walked off the plane. I clutched a lacy black handbag in my hands, trying to keep it safe. Inside was my iPod, the thing I trusted most. It was my life. I had everything on it, from mechanic contacts to real estate agents. I was ready for the future.

I mindlessly followed my father as we went through the check points, my mind in another place. My ears adjusted to the foreign language, catching up to the speed and sounds, the way these people's tongues twisted and turned to form beautiful words. I listened carefully, the language like new found gold, exciting and interesting. I could understand what they were saying, but I couldn't dare to speak as breath taking amazing as they could. This is what I loved about coming to a new country. It was all so...wonderful.

I could feel my father's eyes glance back at me every once in a while, a frown pressing his lips into a thin line. It was a look that he got whenever he was thinking of a way to bend me to his will. It also challenged me, daring me to defy him, which I wasn't afraid to do. There was a hint of something else, something new and different. Something I had not seen before.

We collected our luggage in silence, neither of us looking each other in the eyes. I bought an iced coffee before we left the building and gracefully slurped up the caramel liquid on the walk to the waiting limo.

It was an extravagant mode of transportation, one I wasn't very fond of. In fact, I would have preferred to take taxi or a regular car. There was no need to show off the amount of money we had. People could tell by the way we dressed, talked, and held ourselves.

I pulled a compact out of my handbag and tried to fix myself from the bumpy flight. My black hair, which was sprinkled with teal highlights and cut just below my jaw, had a few pieces sticking up at odd ends in the back, but it was nothing that couldn't be fixed. Father watched me with familiar brown eyes, eyes that I did not own. I had inherited my mother's soft green gaze and I was thankful for that. I liked seeing my dead mother every time I looked in the mirror. It reminded me that she wasn't gone and could never be forgotten. Cancer was a nasty way to die and her having it pushed father to become the best doctor he could be. It was almost inhuman, the way he devoted himself to one thing.

He was the one who gave me my drive, my want to succeed. It was thanks to him that I had everything planned out and ready to go when I turned eighteen, just one more year. One more year and I was free to leave and do whatever I planned.

"Lyamu."

How I hated it when he called me by my full name. He had named me and it was name I had grown to hate. That name held an image of the girl he wanted me to be: Doctor Lyamu Carolyn Walker. I was not that girl. I was Amu Aoren, mechanic.

"Yes, father?"

I glanced out of the tinted window, not wanting to look at him. I wasn't sure where we were, but small hills rolled by and farmers sat outside of their cottages, taking a break from a long day's work. I spotted a small brown puppy and immediately though of BlueBell at home. This would be her walk time. I hoped that Charlie was taking good care of her.

"I have yet to tell you where you will be attending school after the end of fall break."

I forced back the frown that threatened to appear. "I did not know that we would be staying that long." oh, damn it all! I had planned on seeing A7X with Charlie next month. She was going to kill me when I called later on. And everyone else would threaten to kill me on video chat. I was looking forward to spending the rest of senior year in London.

"Yes, well, now you know. You'll be going to the famous Ouran. I'm sure you've heard of it." I nodded. It was one of the schools I considered going to until I saw the hideous girl's uniform. "A friend of mine, the Ootoris, lives close by and his son, who is your age, attends the school. His name is Kyoya. I'm sure you two will be great friends."

There was something unsaid in the air. My father never spoke without a reason. Every word held meaning, a hidden agenda. I wouldn't ask directly. As Walkers, we were known for our word games.

"I'm afraid I'll have to decline your offer, father. I dread the thought of wearing that yellow Ouran dress. Honestly, it makes me want to burn it."

"I am certain that they will allow you to wear the boy uniform if you asked...If I asked."

I crossed my right leg over my left and fought the urge to curl my nails into the leather seats. It was more than just visiting friends. Otherwise he would not have minded changing me to a different school. He was trying too hard to make me go to that school.

"Like I said, Amu, make friends, good friends. They can get you what you want."

It hit me in the pit of my stomach like a Japanese bullet train. Make good friends, huh? He wanted me to make more connections, connections in the form of Ootori Kyoya. If I did, I'd get what I wanted: support. I'd get so much farther if I had him behind me.

"Anything you want, father."


	2. Chapter 2

The house severed staying in was nothing new. It was big, yeah, but I was used to big. It was Greek, with columns and sharp edges. White, like the one at home. A large wooden fence bordered the house, bushes and flowers growing around the sides. It wasn't what I was expecting. I was hoping that we'd be staying in a regular, traditional Japanese house. I was mentally cursing my father all the way down the stone pathway to the large oak door.

I groaned inwardly when a butler opened the door. My eyes took in everything: the polished, hardwood floor, the spiraling grand staircase, flaming red carpets with a golden trim, and calm, creamy walls. Even if it was nothing new, it was still absolutely beautiful.

I climbed up the stairs to the fourth floor and grinned. Hanging on the walls were replicas of the famous paintings that were showcased in the Hermitage Museum. I ran over to the door next to my favorite one, The Stolen Kiss, and swung it open. The room was regular sized, a large canopy bed making it seem smaller than it actually was. Crawling along the walls was ivy bordering that dipped down into the golden carpet. Across the room from the bed was a wooden dresser, angels carved into the center. I threw myself onto the silky bed and sighed peacefully when I sunk in. This was a great place to spend the rest of the break in. I wasn't going to move from this bed.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

With my permission, a bouncy maid walked in, rolling a cart with a silver tray. She uncovered the tray and offered it to me. On it was a nutella sandwich, my favorite. I grinned and ran over to the cart, picked up the sandwich and chomped it down in one bite. It was so creamy and smooth. I desperately wanted another, but that meant going down to the kitchen and facing my father. He'd no doubt rope me into a lecture on how to behave.

"Would you like anything else, Ms. Walker?"

I glanced at the not so stunning color of the walls and nodded. "Do you know if there is a store nearby? One that sells paint."

The maid thought for a second, one finger rested on her red painted lips. "There is one down the street from here. I don't remember what it is called, but I can send someone out to get the color you desire."

I shook my head and smoothened down the asymmetrical lace skirt I was wearing. "No, that would not be needed. Thank you, though."

As soon as the maid left, I threw a spider web hoodie over my Escape the Fate t-shirt and proceeded to sneak out of the house.

The road was narrow, the sidewalk barely noticeable. The sky sang to me, the soft blues falling to me. I had always wanted to be a painter. My favorite artist of all time was Kiko Mü. I've always wanted to meet her. Her portraits and landscapes were simply the best.

When the house's fence ended the rest of the town began. It was as if I was stepping into a whole new world. The street widened and shops appeared on either side, the sweet and sour smell of food that the venders sold assaulted my nose, but it wasn't all bad. I enjoyed listening to the new sounds and smelling the new scents of this neighborhood. I ducked into a store that seemed to sell everything. With practiced Japanese I asked for the paint section. The old clerk pointed her to the back of the store before retiring to shelving items.

There were so many colors to choose from. I wanted so much to pick them all and paint every inch a different color, but I had only brought a little bit of money with me. Begrudgingly, I grabbed the forest green can and whirled around, knocking into another person as I did so.

"OW!"

I was tossed to the ground, the paint can landing next to me. The other girl, who had shaggy, long, black hair, bright hazel eyes, and wore a baggy sweater that overlapped her hands, tripped backwards but did not fall. She held out her hand and hoisted me up. I was going to thank her, but then I recognized who she was.

"You! You're Kiko Mü!"

I couldn't stop staring. Here she was, my hero, standing in front of me. I was in total and utter shock. She was so... So... Nerdy in person. I didn't expect her to look so strange. She was covered in paint and looked like she hadn't stepped out of her studio in days. In her hands were a bunch of freshly painted pictures. Work seemed to go everywhere she did.

Kiko rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment. "Yes, I am. Do I, uh, know you?"

"No! I mean, you don't, but I know you. You are my favorite artist! I have replicas of all of your work at home! Wow, I can't believe that I'm actually seeing you here!"

I was talking fast, really fast but I couldn't stop. I was so star struck. If I was any less cool than I was now, I'd be screaming and dying on the floor.

"Oh!" She seemed to get even more embarrassed now. "That's so wonderful of you. Thank you!" She pulled out one of the papers from her pile and handed it to me. "Here, have an original."

With shaking hands, I took the painting from her and studied it carefully. It was a portrait of a young man around my age with black hair that was slightly spiked and calm eyes. His blue uniform was cut off just below the edge of the school crest, but I recognized it. Ouran High School.

"Oh, so I'll be seeing this guy soon," I said without meaning to. I glanced up at Kiko, who was smiling.

"You know Mori," she asked. Her voice seemed to warm up when she said that name. I noticed it immediately because it happened to Charlie when she talked about Mikey, her boyfriend of three years.

I glanced down at the painting once more to make sure I didn't and then shook my head. "I will be going when school starts. 11th grade."

Kiko nodded. "This is his last year. I…actually work at Ouran, for Ootori Kyoya, designing for the Host Club."

There was that name again. Kyoya. Was he really that well known and popular that even this great painter worker for him? "Host Club…Wait, isn't that an escort service when rich women get entertained and sometimes…you know, entertained. "

"It doesn't go that far," Kiko laughed, pushing her sleeves up. A loud ringing drew her attention to her jean pocket. She pulled out her cellphone and frowned. "Work. It was nice meeting you…?"

"Amu Walker," I told her eagerly.

"Have a nice day, Amu," she told me and answered her phone, walking away as she did so.

I hugged my can of paint and ran towards the front of the store. I paid an impatient man as quickly as I could and exited the store. I couldn't wait to get home and tell Charlie that I had met Kiko Mü!


	3. Chapter 3

I hated painting. Not the regular, artistic painting that Kiko did, but the wall kind. All day it was up and down and up and down with the paint roller. I must have gained some muscle by the time dinner had come about, and I still had half the room to do. I didn't cover the ivy bordering because I really liked that. I was thinking of drawing in the rest of the ivy to tie it into that the rest of the wall, but I wasn't that good of an artist. I would no doubt fail at that. If only I was as good of a painter as Kiko. At least I had the ability to fix cars!

My stomach grumbled, begging for something to eat. I set down the pain rolled and wandered out of my room and into the hall. I spotted a maid polishing the stair railing and asked her for directions. She offered to get something for me and ran off before I could decline. Instead of trying to find the kitchen and get lost, I sat down on the top step and waited. My phone vibrated after five minutes.

Charlie Valley: Dude, I miss you already.

Me: Charlie! Oh my gods, it's been four days, but I miss you so much!

Charlie Valley: I cannot wait for you to come home. 11th grade is nothing without you.

Me: About that...

Charlie Valley: Oh my goddess, don't you dare say what I think you're about to say!

Me: It turns out that I'll be staying here for a little bit...

Charlie Valley: How long is a little bit?

Me: At least until the end of the school year...

Charlie Valley: I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!

Me: I know! I know! I hate it too! But there isn't anything I can do about it. I'm really sorry.

Charlie Valley: I want to see your face, woman!

I laughed to myself and looked up to see the maid carrying a tray of sticky rice. I gladly started scarfing down the rice with chopsticks and continued to text Charlie.

Me: Calm down, we have Skype.

Charlie Valley: *kisses* awwe, I can't wait for it.

Me: You'll make Mikey angry if you keep this up

Charlie Valley: Yeah yeah yeah. Just hurry and call me.

Me: I will as soon as my Internet is set up. It may take a while.

Charlie Valley: _ Gosh, girl! Don't make me wait so long!

Me: Oh! Guess who I met!

Charlie Valley: Who?

Me: Kiko Mü!

Charlie Valley: No way! What was she like?

Me: Really cool. Different, but cool. She gave me one of her new paintings!

Charlie Valley: Oh my! I am so jealous!

Me: She knows someone in the school I'm going to be attending. I wonder if I'll see him. He is so cool looking!

I didn't want to tell her about Kyoya. I didn't want her to worry about me. Charlie has her total mother moments. If I told her that I had to win him over, she'd offer me all the money she made from gigs and collected over the years. Charlie was an orphan and barely able to take care of herself. I didn't want her to even consider giving me money. Besides, it wasn't like he was a murder or some weird pedophile, right?

I was actually excited to meet him. I hoped that he'd be some sort of challenge. I wanted something fun. British boys and their sweet words were quite boring when you've heard them all of your life. That's why Charlie snatched up the first Scottish boy to come to our school in eighth grade.

Charlie Valley: He sounds like your type!

Charlie Valley: Hey, dear, I've got a party to go to and Mike is getting impatient. I'll text you later. See you, sexy!

Me: Night, Charlie!

I replaced my phone in my pocket and held up the tray. The maid, who had continued her work, nodded and motioned for me to set it down. Sliding it to the farthest side of the stairs, I stood and slowly walked back to my room. It was around nine, still early for me, even with slight jet lag. It would take a while to adjust to the time difference.

With a frown, I grabbed the latest Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter book and flopped down of the bed. Maybe this would kill some time.

Jumping on the trampoline in the backyard, I felt as if I could touch the sky. It had rained for four days, which was unexpected. I thought Japan was supposed to be dryer than England! I had been stuck inside the house all day, left to exploring every room in the house. It wasn't completely boring, but I was more interested in going outside. Jumping up and down among the greenery of the garden was what I was waiting for. The wind whipped my air into my face and the slight dampness of the trampoline had me slipping, but it was all good fun.

I remembered the time Charlie and I had snuck outside in the middle of the night just so we could go on my trampoline. I had been sick and she had come over to keep me company. I hated staying inside with a passion and, being around eleven years old, we thought it would be a good idea if I got out. Carefully, we tiptoed out of the house and into the back yard. Hanging on the apple trees were lanterns that were always lit. Charlie led the way because she was much faster and could sense danger like an animal. The night before it had rained, but we had forgotten. We were just jumping and then I fell back and nearly off the back. Charlie dove and pushed me back, her arm hitting the metal in the process. She fractured her arm for me. I'd never forget that.

Small droplets of water fell onto my forehead. I stopped jumping and held out one hand that was clad in a striped fingerless glove. Yes, it was raining again, so early in the day. I check my phone to see if Charlie called, but I had no new notifications. I lay down on the rough material of the trampoline. The rain started to come down harder but I didn't move. I didn't want to go back inside. It was like a prison cell.

I lay there, under the pouring rain, until someone cared enough to look for me.


	4. Chapter 4

Sunday came around quicker than anticipated. Unlike most Sunday's in Manchester, I could not sleep in or eat ice cream while I watched Supernatural. (I was a Castiel and Dean fan. I even owned several, large, rainbow slinkies). This morning was filled with noise that gave me a major headache. Even better was that I didn't have time to drink a warm cup of tea.

Father had barged into my room, dug through my closet, threw some clothes on the bed, and ordered me to get up. He didn't tell me where we were going or how long we'd be out. I knew better than to question him.

A box containing my school uniform sat at the foot of my bed. It had arrived yesterday and I had yet to open it. In fact, I didn't want to open it. If I did, I'd have to burn it. I could do it, too. There was a fireplace outside of the kitchen.

Currently I was standing in the tub of the bathroom next to my room. Nearly burning water beat down on my scalp and cascaded down my back. I loved taking hot showers to push away all sleepiness.

Out of all the rooms, the bathroom was my favorite. It was black tile, even the floor. On the tile were hand painted daisies in lavender, pink, and blue. The tub was spacious and a soft blue, as was the skin and toilet. I was calm when I was in the bathroom. Maybe it was the colors or maybe it was the water than relaxed me. I wasn't quite sure which.

After quickly washing out the cherry shampoo from my hair, I turned off the water, wrapped a towline around myself, and stepped out onto the cool tile. Father had chosen a navy blue blouse trimmed in lace and a black pencil skirt. Wherever we were going, it wasn't the places I often went to. It was somewhere high class, with tiny finger foods. That also meant that I had to wear some kind of torturous heels.

My phone vibrated on the marble sink. Dressed in clothes, I padded over to it, hoping that it would be Charlie. I hadn't heard from her in days.

Mikey Gallagher: Charlie lost her her phone again.

I smile and shook my head. My suspicion was right. Charlie lost her phone every once in three months and wouldn't be able to afford one for another month. Somehow she managed to keep her laptop for more than a year. It was our way of communicating and the Internet in the house was still off.

Me: Is she with you?

Mikey Gallagher: Naw. She went to get a pint from the bar.

I sighed. Charlie and Mikey. They were always at one party or another, or a bar. It was so like them.

Me: Mmh. Tell her I said Hi and that I'll try to get my computer up.

Mikey Gallagher: Anything for you, sweet cheeks.

I groaned at that. He was such a flirt. And he used the worst nicknames.

Me: Don't call me that!

Mikey Gallagher: Night, Honey Bunches of Oats.

I shoved my phone in my shoe and walked put of the bathroom. Waiting for me was a bowl of cereal and French toast. Breakfast was never extravagant. Neither was my dinner, unless I ate with my father and I was usually not home at the right time.

I ate silently, checking the clock every once in a while. It was six in the morning. Six! I never work up that early, not even for school. Japan was not agreeing with me. I quickly finished eating and ran downstairs.

A car was waiting for us outside. When I say car, I mean a limo. It's always a limo. Father was already inside. He was taking rapidly in Japanese, all of his attention on the person on the other side of the phone line. I slid to the farthest side of the seat and pulled out my iPod. I clicked on Zombie Run, a popular British game, and played mindlessly until my father was finished talking.

"You have yet to tell me where we are going," I commented, pretending to focus on the game.

"You must be patient, Lyamu." A smile touched his face for a second. It scared me when he did that. "We are going on a picnic."

I frowned, tempted to ask him if he had taken something and was now suffering the side effects. Since when did we go on picnics? Or spend tine together if it didn't mean anything for the future? Sure, we went on a few when mother was alive, but that was then. This is now.

"That sounds lovely," I lied. "It has been a while since we have went out together."

"I apologize, but we will not be alone."

Surprise surprise. Actually, it wasn't. I should have expected this. I wonder which old man I'd be meeting today.

"Another time then, father. Who will be with us?"

"Ootori and his son."

Ah, I should have guessed. I was actually thinking that I would have met him a lot sooner. The good thing about getting to know Kyōya is that I'd have someone at school to talk to. Maybe I could find the guy that's on the painting, which I hung in my room. Kiko had called him Mori. Then maybe I'd have two friends. And what if he personally knew Kiko Mü? Then I can be friends with her too! Us British liked to make friends and socialize. We were like Russian's, but without all of the Vodka.

"That sounds exciting," I said and turned my attention to the road. We were passing through a city that wasn't quite a city. There were no factories or tall buildings but it wasn't a village. I believe it was called a suburb, but I wasn't sure. We passed by many apartments and a few stores. I recognized one of them: Punkrave. Charlie and I got most of our crazy, asymmetrical skirts. It was Christmas every time we got out paycheck.

Back in Manchester, I worked at a store called Mythic Treasures. It was a new age store run by a middle aged woman named Suzy. She was such a great person who had hired us on a whim. We had cleaned up her back room and changed it into a place for tarot readings. After that, we went to visit her every day. Eventually she found something else for us to do. We also helped Heidi, the tarot reader. She was really cool and did Reiki for me one day. Man, I missed them so much and it had only been a week.

I want to go home.


	5. Chapter 5

Surprisingly, Kiko found herself warming up to Haruhi very easily. Maybe it was because of Haruhi's witty comments and nice smile. Or maybe it was because he was actually a she. Kiko relaxed tremendously among the female population. Men were a whole different story. She wasn't sure exactly how to interact with them.

"Kiko, I'm surprised they haven't tried to force you into a dress," Haruhi commented as she lifted her arms, giving the older girl access to her waist. "I thought they made everyone that worked for them look like a prince or princess."

"Kyoya knows that I'd quite the second they brought something frilly my way," Kiko told her. She wrapped the tape measure around Haruhi's hips and scribbled down the measurement. "Im too good at what I do for them to lose me."

"That makes sense." Haruhi nodded to herself and sighed. "I was wish they'd let me dress as I'd please. I'd wear what you wear. Something comfortable."

A slight frown touched Kiko's lips but was replaced with a smile in seconds. "To be honest, at one point I really wanted to wear…feminine clothes. I did, for a month, but they got in the way of my painting. I gave them to my cousin and never looked back. Sweaters and shorts are much easier to paint it, don't you think?"

"Yeah, you're right…Hey, Kiko, what happened earlier? Did that idiot prince make you cry?"

"N-no, of course not," she lied through her teeth. Half of her wanted to confide in Haruhi, but the other half screamed a warning. She didn't want a possible friend to hate or judge her. Besides, she could handle the pain. She had been for a long time.

Haruhi gently rested a hand on her shoulder. "Kiko, you can tell me anything."

Although she was taken aback by this sudden outburst of kindness, she didn't show it. Instead, she put on a bright smile and said "Haruhi, it's no big deal. The last time I met Suoh, we played a game of chess, which I am a master at. He beat me and brought that up earlier today. I'm a really sore loser. It's nothing, really. Just some competition."

Could she think of a worse lie? Kiko mentally hit herself . She didn't even play chess that well! If Haruhi ever wanted to see her skill, she'd be disappointed. She hoped that she had inherited her father's talent. Maybe she'd be able to scratch by. She prayed that Haruhi would bring up this subject ever again.

"Are you going to play him again?"

"As soon as I have time. I will win this time! I have been training!"

"I'll be cheering for you."

"That means a lot. Thank you." Kiko scrawled down the last few numbers on her chart and loaded her supplies into her bag. "Alright, we're done today. Chances are that you won't see me for another few months unless it's for a fitting." This was something she wasn't very much looking forward to. Maybe she'd visit Haruhi.

Haruhi nodded and dressed herself. "Please, feel free to come to me whenever you need to talk."

"I promise that I will." Something told her that she'd honor that promise.

"Goodbye, Kiko."

"Sayonara."

Kiko slipped out of the room without so much as a word to anyone else.


End file.
